Sergeant Bowo let out a quiet chuckle, though the trace of surprise was still plainly visible upon his face.
“Apologies, Mr Felzein,” he said with a sheepish smile. “You’re always masked up, so I never quite got a proper look at you.”
He then added, with a hint of amused curiosity, “What a fortunate coincidence to find you here.”
Felzein returned the smile with casual ease, “I’m friends with Rosa and Melati, after all. I thought I’d come along.”
The sergeant’s gaze flicked towards Rosa and Melati, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully as he tried to place them.
“Oh… and you two as well?” he inquired.
The women nodded together in quiet affirmation.
“Yes, sir. We both work here at Koba Baru Pharmacy,” Rosa responded.
With a sudden nod of understanding, Sergeant Bowo pieced it together. Rosa and Melati were clearly well-acquainted with Felzein.
It made sense, then, that the report about the rat carcasses had come directly from one of the pharmacists, who had promptly contacted the police.
So Felzein’s presence here was entirely unsurprising.
“In that case, who made the initial report to us?” the sergeant asked, turning his attention to the group.
“That would be me, sir,” Dewi said, raising her hand with a composed calm.
“Oh, Miss…” Sergeant Bowo regarded her expectantly.
“Dewi,” she supplied simply.
“Very well, Miss Dewi. Please, do share the details of what transpired,” the sergeant urged gently.
Dewi took a breath and began, “Right then, sir, it all started like this…”
Dewi narrated the entire sequence of events from start to finish, her voice steady and clear, while Sergeant Bowo, flanked by a handful of his men, listened with keen attention.
When she concluded, the sergeant exhaled deeply, a slow shake of his head following as if to dispel the weight of the tale.
“Crime these days,” he muttered darkly, “has taken on a peculiar and ever more unsettling character.”
A subtle crease of displeasure furrowed his brow, betraying the frustration simmering beneath his calm exterior.
Turning to one of his officers, Constable Susmono, Sergeant Bowo’s tone hardened with command.
“Susmono, you and Deni conduct a thorough sweep of the pharmacy’s surroundings. Examine every nook and cranny bins, back alleys, the storeroom, even the narrow drain that runs alongside the left side of the building."
"We need to find any trace of the perpetrators or anything left behind that might offer a clue.”
“Right away, sir,” Susmono responded crisply, moving swiftly alongside his colleague.
Sergeant Bowo then cast a sharp glance at two other men.
“Review any CCTV footage. Find out who’s been on the premises, either this morning or overnight.”
Before the officers could take action, Rosa interjected, her face tinged with regret.
“I’m sorry, sir, but our pharmacy doesn’t have CCTV installed. We’ve planned to set it up on several occasions, but it’s yet to come to fruition.”
A frown darkened Sergeant Bowo’s face, “No CCTV at all?” he repeated, incredulous.
Rosa nodded quietly, “Yes, sir. We rely solely on manual observation and keeping visitor logs, and even that is only for the controlled medicines.”
“Very well,” the sergeant conceded with a slow nod, a trace of frustration colouring his voice. “In that case, we’ll have to be all the more vigilant.”
At that precise moment, Felzein stepped forward.
His expression composed, though something in the tightened jaw and the deliberate calm of his movements betrayed a deeper resolve.
His tone, too, had shifted. Firmer, clipped at the edges, as though the gravity of the moment had carved a new edge into his usually affable manner.
“Sergeant, allow me to introduce a close acquaintance of mine, Heru Atmodjo,” he began, nodding towards the young man who stood a step behind him.
“He’s a crime journalist, specialising in regional investigations here in Koba. He’s also the one who’s been following the recent burglary at my corner shop and more besides.”
Heru stepped forward, purposeful in stride, exuding a quiet intensity. He extended a hand with courteous precision.
His voice, when he spoke, carried the steady cadence of someone used to being doubted and yet determined to be heard.
“Heru Atmodjo, sir. From KobaNews Crime Desk. I’ve been following a troubling pattern across several recent incidents. And if I may say so, there’s something quite... off about the way these cases are beginning to align.”
Sergeant Bowo shook his hand, eyes narrowing ever so slightly, not in scepticism, but in curiosity.
There was a gravity to the young man’s presence, a self-possession rarely seen in those still early in their careers.
There was, above all, conviction, firm, unshaken, and free of flourish.
“Go on then,” Bowo said at last, stepping back slightly. “I’m listening.”
Heru gave a small nod and began. What followed was a concise yet compelling summation of the theory he had only recently shared with Felzein, now articulated with the kind of precision that came not from rehearsed confidence, but from a mind that had turned the evidence over a hundred times already.
As he spoke, the hush that fell across the room grew taut with attention.
Not just the officers, but the others nearby, Rosa, Melati, Dewi, even the townsfolk milling about near the entrance, watched and listened, as if drawn in by a story they hadn’t known they were part of.
Sergeant Bowo stood unmoving, absorbing every word.
His brow furrowed once or twice, then smoothed, his head giving the occasional nod of reluctant agreement.
The pieces Heru laid out were not only plausible, they were disturbingly logical.
When at last Heru fell silent, Sergeant Bowo turned and looked down at the garish scrawl still staining the tiled floor of the pharmacy :
“ENJOY THAT!!! YOU DIRTY OLD MAN’S MISTRESSES!!!”
He stared at it for a long moment, as though reading it for the first time, only now understanding the venom and intent behind it.
A quiet exhalation escaped his nostrils, followed by a dry, half-curved smile.
“You think like a detective, lad,” he murmured.
Then, louder, “If what you’ve deduced here proves true, I’ll see to it that you’re brought on as our lead correspondent for major investigations in this region. That, I can promise.”